


The Broken and Dispossessed

by hearteating



Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Family, Gen, Post-Canon, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 23:12:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12493008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearteating/pseuds/hearteating
Summary: After Chicago, the Rance family has trouble sleeping.They develop ways of dealing with it, and do their best to move forward.





	The Broken and Dispossessed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlehuntress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlehuntress/gifts).



They all had trouble sleeping, after Chicago. Henry took sleeping pills more often than not, but Angela and the girls couldn't bear the thought of anything, even pre-measured and government-approved chemicals, controlling their actions. They didn't begrudge him his sleep, even when they were hollow-eyed and vague. At least someone was sleeping.

 

When Casey was the only one who couldn't sleep, she ran. Not far, but up and down the driveway, around the yard, for as long as it took for the writhing, itching restlessness to fade. Running made her feel like she was in control, like her body was her own.

 

When Kat couldn't sleep, and she was the only one up, she watched recordings-- from school, from professional performances, of the two videos her dad shot of their family when she was eight, before he lost the camera. They'd found it again during the move, and Kat digitized it to add to her collection of reminders of times before. She was getting better, slowly; they all were, but it was nice to remember when they didn't have to get better.

 

When Angela found herself the only one awake in the Rance house, she read. She liked memoirs best, stories of people who had done something with their lives, overcome some problem and come out for the better. She'd never write a memoir-- Kris had poisoned that well without meaning to-- but she found them soothing nevertheless.

 

Some nights, though, they weren't alone in their sleeplessness. Some nights it was nice to have company.

 

“You're clean, Casey,” said Angela. “You're clean, and good, and it wasn't your fault.”

Casey smiled tiredly at her from the other end of the bed.

“Thanks, Mom,” she replied. They went through this routine every time it was just the two of them. Some nights they believed more than others, but it was important to keep saying the words. Maybe one day they'd be true. “You, too. You're clean, and good, and it wasn't your fault.”

Tonight wasn't a believing night. Casey had run around the house three times before she noticed the light on in her parents' bedroom, and she'd made some sleepytime tea to try and curb her uneasiness.

“I finished Job, yesterday,” Casey said. “Tomorrow I'm starting on Psalms.”

“And how are you enjoying it?”

“It's different, now,” said Casey thoughtfully. “I mean, before, I believed, but now I know it's all true. It's different.”

“Crazy as it might sound, I think being possessed strengthened my faith,” Angela admitted. She smoothed her hands down over her legs, and frowned. “Even now, I have faith.”

“I don't know what it did to mine,” replied Casey. “I'm still trying to figure it out.” That's why she was reading the Bible, cover to cover. She had moments where everything seemed so clear, and moments where it was hard not to be overwhelmed with the utter pointlessness of life.

It helped, though, that her mom understood. They didn't talk about it much-- it was still too raw-- but the option was always there. They understood what it was like to be taken and used and to be helpless, and they knew what it was like to come out the other side. 

 

“You know, if you ever want to talk about Julia, we can do that,” Angela said one night. Next to her, Kat stiffened and curled in on herself. She turned her head to the side.

“Mom, stop. You don't have to.” Her voice was low and pained, and Angela wanted to hug her. She knew her daughter well enough to know that it would only make things worse at a time like this, though, and so she tried to explain herself.

“I know I reacted...badly when you first told me about Julia,” she said. Kat snorted. Angela couldn't see, but she was pretty sure she rolled her eyes as well. “I know, Kat, and I'm sorry. It- It wasn't a good time. For any of us. But you loved her, and I know you miss her.” Kat was still turned away, and now Angela could see the tiny hitches in her breathing that meant she was trying not to cry. “I just want you to know that you can tell me about her. About the girl you loved, and who loved my beautiful, wonderful daughter.”

Kat launched herself sideways into her mother's arms, tears running down her face. Angela immediately put her arms around her, holding her close. She hadn't held Kat like this in years, since she was a child, but tears came to Kat more readily now, where she used to grow cold and angry.

“I miss her,” Kat said. Angela ducked her head and kissed the top of Kat's head. 

“I know,” Angela murmured. “I know.”

They didn't speak again that night, just sat together until dawn, but there was a bridge, now, where there hadn't been. 

 

“Tell me about the future, Case,” Kat said. She sat in bed, gently rubbing at the muscle above her still-healing kneecap. Casey looked up from her Bible and set it aside.

“In the future, I'm an exorcist like Father Marcus,” Casey started. It was a game they played, imagining different futures for themselves. “I travel all over the world, and save people from demons. And...” she paused for a moment. “And I kill the demons, too, so they can never hurt anyone again.” She clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut. 

“And everyone has a flying car,” said Kat. Casey opened her eyes and Kat gave her a crooked smile. 

“And everyone has a flying car,” Casey agreed. It was how they ended every round. “Tell me about the future, Kat.”

“In the future, I'm a world-famous dancer.” Kat gave up on rubbing her leg and leaned back against the wall. “I choreograph my own shows, and when I get older, I keep choreographing for other shows. At the end of the day, I come home, and my wife is there, and we're happy.” Her voice was tight and wistful. “And everyone has a flying car.”

There was a heavy silence in the room. Some nights the future looked bright and easy, and sometimes it seemed impossible.

“Do you think we'll ever get flying cars?” Casey asked. Kat laughed.

“Not really, but it's nice to dream, right?”

 

“My girls,” said Angela, looking between her daughters. The bed was crowded on nights like these, Henry asleep on his side, Kat and Angela next to each other with their legs extended, Casey perched at the foot of the bed. “Bad dreams?”

“Yes,” Kat replied.

“No,” Casey replied. They looked at her. “Couldn't get to sleep. I didn't want to.” Kat and Angela nodded; they understood the feeling.

“We're all going to be a mess tomorrow.” Angela sighed and shook her head. 

“That'll be a change,” said Kat. Her knee was bugging her worse than usual tonight, and she shifted, trying to find a better position.

“Kat-” Angela started, hurt.

“She's right though, Mom,” Casey cut in. “We're a mess. I mean, look at us. We've been a mess since Dad's accident. Before, even.”

“The demon made everything worse, but it's not like things were perfect,” Kat continued. “We kept too many secrets.”

“Well,” Angela's voice was faint. “We're not keeping secrets now, are we?”

There was a pause.

“We're getting better,” Casey said. Kat nodded.

“Getting better,” Angela repeated. She put on a smile, but her eyes were wet. “I guess that's all we can ask for.”


End file.
